


Amuse Me

by lovesrogue36



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesrogue36/pseuds/lovesrogue36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna issues a challenge regarding a certain unconventional use of the intercom that Harvey just can't resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amuse Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Suits nor am I associated with USA Network, Gabriel Macht or Sarah Rafferty.

Pearson-Hardman had never had such a dull day. Harvey wasn’t sure if it was the heat or the light caseload or just the laziness that comes with late summer but he hadn’t accomplished a damn thing in three hours and didn’t really plan on accomplishing anything else for the rest of the day.

He sat in his over-priced office chair, feet up on the garbage can and elbow on the desk, rolling a baseball between his fingers. “He looks at you like he wants to eat you.”

Donna’s eyes darted his way at the abrupt comment in her headset, the ever-annoying associate (Kurt, was it? Or Kyle?) leaning too far over her desk. “You know the second-year associates always dare the first-years to get a shot down my blouse, right? You’re hardly the most subtle _or_ the most successful.”

Harvey snorted, mostly at the caught-red-handed look on Kyle’s face just before he scurried back to his cubicle to die of shame. “I don’t like it.”

“That I’m cruel to the associates? Since when?” Donna spun in her chair, filing several folders as she murmured quietly into the headset.

“That he looks at you like he wants to eat you,” Harvey corrected, thumb scraping over the stitches on the baseball. “ _I’m_ the only one that should look at you like that.” He tacked the last on under his breath, an after-thought, a glazed look in his eyes.

A brief pause in the clacking of her keyboard was all that implied she had heard him, let alone been shocked. “And just what gives you that privilege? What can you offer that Mr. Green Associate can’t?” Donna prodded, raising an eyebrow at her computer screen.

“Ha. What _can’t_ I?” Harvey chucked a pencil at the window that separated them, the quiet thunk as it hit the glass drawing a smirk onto her lips.

Donna tucked her chin to her shoulder, shooting him a _look_ that smoldered for about half a second before she returned to her work. “Prove it.”

Harvey rolled the baseball across his desk, leaning forward. “Prove it?”

“You’re obviously bored. _Amuse me_.”

Standing, he wandered across to the wall between them, arm resting against the glass but she hardly even acknowledged him. Harvey chuckled softly, shaking his head. “All right then. I’ll amuse you, but only because it amuses me. If Mike or Jessica or _Louis_ stop by, I’m in an important conference call and am not to be disturbed, got that?”

“Mhmm.”

Settling comfortably on his couch, Harvey cleared his throat, fingers drumming against a basketball. “Give me somewhere to start. What are you wearing under that dress?”

“The fantasy or the truth?” Donna asked without so much as a glance his way.

Harvey pondered for a moment but replied, “The truth. I’m out to make _you_ come, not me.”

“Black lace, Victoria’s Secret, _sliiight_ ,” Donna held up her fingers pinched together, “push. And… white cotton from Kmart. Hey, you asked.”

Tucking an arm behind his head, Harvey heaved a sigh. “You just destroyed every fantasy I’ve ever had about you. Dream murderer.” He sighed again, shaking his head. “Tell me, do you prefer fingers or tongue?”

“Do you really expect me to do all the work for you? Typical man. I thought you had better skills than that, Specter,” Donna chided. “Not very _amusing_ so far.”

“Don’t insult my skills. I _have_ skills. It’s, ah, we’re here late. Case is done. We won, of course. Paperwork’s finished. I... stop you on your way for your coat, tell you you don’t need it. The Indian place down the street delivers and-”

“That place doesn’t deliver. _Ray_ delivers.”

“Seriously?” Harvey paused in spinning his little tale to look up at her in surprise.

“Seriously.”

“Remind me to give him a raise.”

“He asked for one last week. He got it.”

“Good, good. Where was I?”

“Indian place.”

“Right. In this hypothetical reality, they deliver. So we settle onto the couch, open a bottle of wine, it’s hot, it’s spicy, it’s _August_. We both shed some layers and after, you know, a couple of glasses, you’ve got your feet up across my lap, my hand on your leg, skin catching on your stockings-”

“Is he mad?” Mike appeared very abruptly at Donna’s desk, looking slightly more petrified than usual, his words hissed with a glance at Harvey’s office.

“About what?” For all Harvey’s hard work setting her up, she certainly didn’t _sound_ like a woman who’s boss had seconds earlier been about to have one-sided phone sex in her ear.

“The bike thing? He seemed mad. He’s mad, isn’t he?”

“Nope, not mad. But I wouldn’t bother him. Important conference call. Run along, puppy.”

Mike pulled a face but did as he was told, stacks of papers seeming to flutter in a cloud all around him like some sort of law office Pig Pen. “You’re not mad about the bike thing,” Donna informed him. “Continue.”

“I was a _little_ mad about the bike thing.” But Harvey cleared his throat and merely did as _he_ was told. “So I’m touching your leg, thumb rubbing circles, bigger and bigger, then smaller again, right over that little freckle on the underside of your calf.”

Donna shifted, crossing her legs over the aforementioned freckle, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“And you’re ignoring me, surprise, surprise, filling me in on next week’s office gossip, eating your tikka masala like it’s nothing. So I move my hand a little higher, middle finger dipping in behind your knee, your stocking hissing under the touch. And then a little higher still, just under your skirt, so my hand’s pressed between your thighs-”

“Tell Harvey I want to see him in my office in ten,” Jessica interrupted as she passed by Donna’s desk, the younger woman startling slightly (and uncharacteristically.)

Jessica was six feet away down the hall before Donna had the full presence of mind to spin around, legs crossed casually, hands draped over the arms of her chair. “He’s on a conference call. Told me he didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“What conference call? I didn’t know he had anything scheduled,” Jessica protested, brow knit.

Harvey groaned quietly in her ear. “Shit. Send her in.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he used it as a cover story,” Donna said dryly with a roll of her eyes, waving a hand towards his door. “Be my guest.”

Jessica let herself into his office, poking her head inside. “Harvey? I need to see-”

“Oui, oui, accrochez-vous sur un moment!” Harvey exclaimed, throwing his hands up before covering the mouthpiece on his headset. “ _Jessica!_ I’ve almost got Pierre on the hook, I can’t piss him off now!”

“Pierre?” Jessica frowned for a moment before recognition dawned, piecing together Harvey’s cover for him. “Pierre _Jeanty,_ the airline mogul? Never mind, never mind.” She ducked out of his office, waving to Donna. “He’s got all the time he needs. Don’t bother him for _anything_.”

Donna nodded studiously, waiting for Jessica to be a sufficient number of steps down the hallway before quickly adding a phone call to Pierre Jeanty to Harvey’s schedule. “Go on, go on.”

“So my hand’s pressed between your thighs but you’re still ignoring it so I push your skirt up with my free hand and even you can’t ignore that. You give me that look,” Harvey glanced up and she obliged him with a quick look his direction. “Yeah, that one, and I set your take-away on the table so I can kiss you, hand on your waist. You’re… no, you’re not surprised, you’re you. And you kiss me back, bringing your hands up to my neck, my tongue in your mouth. You taste like curry and coconut and I’m so, so ready to have you; it’s making the reality far better than the fantasy.” Harvey’s voice trailed off at the last, smirking with a twinge of pride at the sound of her sucking in a breath, her typing faltering for just a moment.

“I unzip your skirt and you’ve got my tie off before I can think about it but I stop you, pinning your wrists down to the couch. This is about _you_. I undress you one piece at a time, dropping each thing to the floor until you’re completely naked right _here_ on _this_ couch.” Harvey snuck a look at her, grinning at her tense posture and absolute refusal to glance away from her computer screen.

“Right _here,_ Donna, and I duck my head, pressing a line of kisses up the inside of your thigh, tongue sweeping across your soft skin. You try to make demands but I’m taking my time, holding you still and _god_ you’re so wet.” He could hear her hold in a groan at that and thought with satisfaction that he must be right.

“I sweep my fingers over you, pressing just the tips inside for just a moment and make you watch-”

“He is _not_ going to get away with this.” Louis smacked a file onto Donna’s desk. In her defense, she only lifted her head with wide eyes rather than jumping out of her skin like most people would have.

“Whatever it is, yeah, he’s probably going to get away with it,” Donna fired back.

Unlike with their previous interruptions, however, Harvey didn’t give her a respite, only lowered his voice. “-make you watch as I suck them clean, savoring your taste. You taste so damn good, Donna,” he whispered, unable to hold back a grin at the way her eyes widened even further and her knuckles turned white on the edge of her desk. “I drag my tongue over you, pressing inside you, my hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady.”

“-not only unethical, it’s against company policy!”

Donna blinked slowly at Louis. “Do you have the ‘company policies’ memorized or something? I mean, who does that?”

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Louis demanded, scoffing. “What kind of secretary are you? Just give that to Harvey. I’ll _know_ if he doesn’t get it.”

“Scram, Louis.” Like most people, he did as he was told.

“ _Carry on, Harvey_.” Unlike most people, Harvey did not.

Out of seemingly nowhere (being snuck up on was not a feeling Donna was accustomed to), he appeared at her elbow to grab Louis’ file off the desk. “Sorry, it seems I have actual work to do. Let’s do this again sometime, huh?”

His smirk was very poorly hidden as he lifted the file up as though he were _actually_ interested.

Donna groaned, running her fingers through her hair. “ _You sonofabitch,”_ she muttered under her breath.

Harvey arrived back at the office following his next win (nothing exciting or momentous, just another example of Harvey Specter’s daily awesomeness) and gave Ray the night off. He had some idea that the Indian food had already been delivered, along with a conveniently nude redhead.

They always could read each other’s minds.


End file.
